Falling: A Fake Dating College Hockey Romance (North University Book 1)

When we pull up outside of Sophia’s miniature mansion a few days later, the music surrounds us on all sides. The lawn is littered with people talking loudly over clouds of smoke. Cars line up the driveway and down the block.

It’s been a while since I’ve been to a party. Before I met Wren, I was living a hell at frat houses, doing anything I could to distract myself from my thoughts and my pain. It was comforting to be around people who weren’t there to ask me if I was okay and when I was going to start to get my act together. It was somewhere I could just go to forget, but now I’ve got a real reason to go.

I turn to face Wren, and she’s been quiet since I picked her up. She’s wearing a cute as fuck blue dress, and I’ve been trying not to eye fuck her, but her legs are long and toned and they look like they go on for miles.

She scans the surroundings, one hand on the door handle as she hesitates.

I place my hand on her knee, pulling her back to the moment, and she turns to me, her teeth sinking into her bottom lip. “If you want to leave at any time, just say the word, and we’ll go,” I whisper, and she waits a beat before nodding. The last thing I want is for her to feel uncomfortable. “I’m going to keep you safe tonight, okay?”

She nods.

“Okay?”

“Yeah, okay, let’s go,” she says, rolling her eyes playfully but smiling.

We walk up to the house hand in hand, and I try not to let my nerves show. It’s been forever since I’ve brought a date to a party. I’ve been single for years, and my ex-girlfriend Emily used to drag me to every party at the school I went to when I’d visit. We were on and off during freshman year of college, and I wasn’t willing to drive nine hours every few weeks just to go see her. She liked that I wore a jersey and that was about it.

But with Wren, people need to know this is serious. I need to do right by her, and if my stupid popularity can also help her out, I’d gladly hold her hand all night and spin her around until she’s sick of it.

Music blasts from speakers in all directions, and people are standing aimlessly with SOLO cups in their hands. Fruity smoke from bongs and vapes infuse my senses, and it takes me a second to adjust to the sudden change in scenery.

I take my hand out of hers and slip it around her waist, pulling her into me as we go into the kitchen. “Are you okay?” I whisper-shout in her ear.

“I’ve been better,” she mutters, smiling tight. “Is it always this loud and obnoxious?”

I raise an eyebrow. “What do you think?”

“It’s like I’m inside of a really bad Netflix show about high school and someone is going to spill beer on me.” She shivers at the thought, and I laugh.

“Just relax. I’ve got you, okay?”

“Just relax,” she says, scoffing and shaking her head.

I pull her further into me, kissing her on the forehead as if it’s the most natural thing in the world. She blinks up at me. Shit. Should I not have done that? Is it too soon? We’re supposed to look affectionate, but was anyone even watching for me to have done that?

Someone taps me on my shoulder, and I turn around to a cherry-faced Harry. He’s soaked head to toe, most likely just coming out of the pool. Knowing him, it was either a dare or someone pushed him in. Harry’s not the type of person to willingly get into a pool that hundreds of people have already been in. He’s pretty quiet and reserved, which is why I like him and think he’s a good addition to the team.

“Hey, Miles,” he says before registering Wren next to me. “Wren, right?”

“Yep,” she says, popping the “p.” She’s either nervous or she just doesn’t like me very much because that’s the sweetest I’ve ever heard her sound in my presence.

“This is Harry. You remember him from the party, right? He’s the one who kicked your ass at Just Dance,” I say, gesturing toward him and Wren. They exchange a playful look and I continue my introduction. “He’s the goalie and arguably one of the best players on our team. He talks a lot of shit, so don’t believe everything he says.”

“I don’t talk shit,” he mumbles, sounding as adorable as ever in his Australian accent. Wren marvels at him like he’s the most charming guy in the room. He leans forward, hikes a thumb in my direction, and whispers to Wren, “If you ever want to know any stories about him, just let me know.”

“I will take you up on that,” she whispers.

“I’m right here, you know,” I interject, but they continue talking like they’re old friends and I don’t exist.

“I’ve learned a few things about him myself,” Wren says, a smug smirk on her lips as she lifts her head higher.

“Oh, yeah? Like what?” Harry asks, throwing me a look. I don’t stop her. I’m glad she’s trying to talk to my friends after putting up such a fight about wanting to come here.

“He’s got an awful singing voice,” she says, her gaze drifting from Harry to me and then back to him. I can’t hide the grin that’s spreading across my face. If taking jabs at me is what makes her comfortable, I’ll let her call me every name under the sun.

“Does he? I didn’t know that,” Harry replies, clearly amused. “You’ve got to sing the national anthem at the next game, Davis.”

“That’s not going to happen.” I laugh.

“Oh, but it should.” Wren beams. “Have you heard how terrible his music taste is? It’s like dating a⁠—”

“Okay, that’s enough,” I say, cutting her off with a laugh. Harry’s eyes are wide with curiosity, dying to hear what she has to say. “We’re going to go see what’s over there.”

“I didn’t even get to the best part. The other day⁠—”

I put my hand over her mouth on instinct, and it almost covers her entire face as I slowly walk her backward out of the kitchen. I turn back to Harry, and he shrugs happily before walking off. Her eyes widen with alarm before softening and staring into mine as we continue sidestepping through the hallway.

I can feel her breathing quicken beneath my hand as her green-blue eyes pinch together as she looks down at my hand on her mouth. I drop my hand and shove it into my pocket. Her mouth opens and closes as she searches my face, her eyebrows still scrunched together in the cutest way.

I know she’s wondering whatever that just was, but I don’t know either. Being affectionate with her—whatever that means—is a lot easier than I thought it would be. Everything feels instinctual and natural, and I don’t have to second guess myself when I’m with her.

She opens her mouth again, but before she can speak, Grayson wanders into the hallway, swaying slightly.

“Miles. Is this your girlfriend? The one you tried hiding from us.”

He gestures his cup toward us, his beer almost sloshing over the edge. The change from being around Harry to Gray is so obvious on her face. I remember what she said about being around drunk people, so I pull her into me, nodding at him.

“The one and only,” I say, and he chuckles with a hiccup.

“I’m Grayson, but you can call me Gray.”

Wren’s smile is tight and clearly forced. “Hi, I’m Wren.”

“Let me get you some water, dude. You’re already wasted,” I say, trying to find Gray’s eyes, but he’s too busy looking around. I grip his shoulder to steady him as he continues swaying, but it doesn’t do much to help.

He snorts. “Since when were you such a prude?”

“I’m not drinking tonight, and if you don’t want to be benched at the next game, I suggest you drink some water.”

“Fine, Dad,” Gray mumbles.

Wren laughs.

Finally.

It’s like a breath of fresh air. I can only imagine how irritating it must be for her to be here with me, but she’s trying her best. I look down at her, watching her face transform into sunlight as she laughs at my expense.

Gray mumbles something that neither one of us can understand, and the conversation dies down.

Wren brings her hand across my stomach, nestling into my chest as if we aren’t close enough already. The gesture makes my heart constrict when it shouldn’t. I know it’s been a while, but my body is acting like it’s never had the attention of another woman before.

“Well, it was nice to properly meet you, Wren,” Gray mumbles when he remembers how to speak. He gives me a messy wink before disappearing back into the crowd. She bursts out laughing, pulling away.

She stands across from me, leaning against the wall. “Now what? Are we going to just stand around here all night until another one of your friends comes up to us?”

“This is all on your terms, Wren,” I say. “If you want to stand around here all night, we can.”

She hums. “Where’s the birthday girl? Don’t you want to wish her a happy birthday?”

“Sophia’s probably got her tongue down her girlfriend’s throat, and she wouldn’t even notice if I’m here or not,” I explain. She nods, looking around the small hallway where more people are starting to filter in. “Let’s go to the pool.”

She laughs. “You can go in and I’ll watch. Then, I’ll drive you to the hospital when you get a disease from whatever is in there.”

I smile. “Deal.”

I grab her hand and lead her out to the back of the house, where the pool is just as disappointing as Wren made it out to be.

Each inch of the rectangular pool is filled with semi-naked bodies, beer cans floating, and beach balls making their way across the water. The water has turned a strange brown color, and I don’t want to find out why. We stand next to a wall close to the glass door, our arms touching.

It’s a strange kind of intimacy that I didn’t realize I enjoyed so much before tonight. It’s like every touch from her is like the first time I’m experiencing it.

She erases every woman in my life before her, and I’m only left with her. Her touch. Her smell. Her laugh. Her smile.

And a part of me is starting to think that I won’t need anything else in my life.

She bumps her arm against mine.

“And you wonder why I don’t like parties,” she says, looking up at me. She’s so unimpressed it’s almost funny. I lean my head against the door, laughing. I really am starting to get it. I can’t remember what I found so comforting about being at a place like this.

“Yeah, it’s not as fun as I remember. But I guess I found them more fun when I couldn’t remember them,” I say.

She frowns, her mouth twitching. “How’s that going? The sobriety.”

“I’m not actually an alcoholic, you know?”

“No, but you were getting there,” she says, “I don’t want to pretend to be dating an almost alcoholic.”

“You’re not.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, Wren, I’m sure,” I say, pinning her with a look. “It was just hard. I didn’t know how else to cope with it, and drinking was the easiest option. I’ve cut back now, and I haven’t had a drink in weeks.”

Her eyes are hopeful. “Really?”

“Yeah, really.”

We settle into a rhythm of comfortable silence as pop music blasts out of the speakers, reminding me of a scene from a movie. Except, we’re not screaming and shouting and running around. Instead, we’re lingering around like high schoolers who are too afraid to dance.

The silence between us isn’t uncomfortable like it is with most people. It might be the most peaceful thing I’ve ever encountered.

“Do you want to go find some of your friends?” she asks after a while.

“Do you?”

She sighs. “Not really. I’m bored. I know I didn’t want to be here, but I thought we’d at least witness a fight or something. I could have stayed home and done something fun.”

“Yeah? And what do you do for fun, Wren?”

“Read.”

“And that’s… fun?”

Her entire face lights up, and I swear I’ve only ever seen her get this excited over ink on paper. “The most fun,” she says, “and I can assure you if you threw out all those trashy hockey books and picked up some of my recommendations, you’ll be staying up until three a.m. just to read.”

“Has anyone ever told you how insane you are?”

She frowns. “You have. Twice, actually.”

“And I mean it, princess,” I say, bumping my arm into hers. “You’re insane, but you’re my kind of insane, so it’s okay.”

“Say that word one more time and I’m going to gouge your eyes out.”

I lean down, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. I hover over her, and she shivers. “Insane,” I whisper, extra smooth and extra slow to see what she does. She tilts her face toward mine, and her lips are a breath away. I could kiss her. I should kiss her. I can just imagine how good it would be. How good it would feel for the both of us.

Her lips curve up into a grin, and she laughs.

She bursts out laughing in my face, and I can’t even take the blow to my ego because it’s the hottest sound I’ve ever heard. “You really are stupid,” she wheezes. I just shrug, letting her laugh it out. I can practically see the tension leaving her body, and I’ll happily be the butt of the joke if it gets her to laugh like that.

Her head shoots up from her feet, and something across the pool catches her eye, and she stops laughing.

“What’s wrong?” She looks up at me as if she’s seen a ghost. My heart starts beating rapidly against my chest, the sound roaring in my ears.

“Augustus is here,” she says, turning to me so she’s out of his view. I search over her head, and I spot him. He’s slender and blond, wearing a button-down shirt to a house party. I almost laugh at the sight of him. Wren stands in between my open legs. “Put your hands on me.”

“What?” I , basically gasping for air as I blink at her.

She sighs and grabs my hands to rest on her hips as she snakes hers around my neck. She turns us around so her back is against the wall instead of mine. Her back arches slightly, her front flush against me.

Fuck me.

“Can you see him?” I ask, swallowing. Her face is a few inches below mine now. She looks behind me and nods before looking up at me. My breathing turns shallow when her green eyes drift aimlessly around my face, and I’m trying to compose myself enough to not just go out and kiss her.

“Just pretend you’re whispering in my ear,” she suggests, pulling at the hair on the nape of my neck, playing the doting girlfriend as she looks at me with fucking stars in her eyes. She guides my head until I’m breathing hard on her neck. I use one arm to brace myself on the wall so I don’t crush her with my weight, and she shifts beneath me to get more comfortable.

“What do you want me to say?”

“I don’t know. I don’t care. Just do some—” she pleads, but her words turn into a sigh when I kiss her neck.

It’s barely even a kiss. Barely even a touch. My mouth merely skims the soft skin on her neck, but when the goosebumps arise across her, I can’t help myself.

I kiss her jaw tenderly, once, careful not to contact her mouth. The feeling instantly makes me feel light and airy as I breathe her in. She smells like Gucci perfume mixed with sweet lavender soap. She’s all fresh and summery, and I just want to drink her in. Her hands move from my neck to my chest, her small hands fisting my shirt, drawing me in closer so I can taste her.

“Is this okay?” I ask, biting softly against the space just beneath her ear. She doesn’t respond. Only a soft gasp leaves her mouth. So, I press again, “Wren. Is this okay?”

“Mm-hmm. Just keep…” she says, her chest rising and falling. “Just keep doing that.”

While my mouth explores the side of her neck, Wren guides my hand that has gone limp at my side to her sweater. She slowly lets me slip it under the material, my hand spreading across her stomach.

She lets out a low noise of approval when the heat of my hand hits her cold stomach. Her abs tense beneath my hand, and I can’t help but run one of my fingers over them. I kiss and bite gently on her neck, and she moans quietly.

She fucking moans.

Her breathing quickens when I accidentally rock against her, and she gasps.

She’s going to be the death of me. But at least I’d die a happy man.

“Is he gone?” I ask into her skin. If she doesn’t put a stop to this, I might spend the rest of the night just like this.

Her voice is hoarse when she asks, “What?”

“Augustus. Is he still there?” I ask again, taking my hand out of her shirt. I suck in a breath at the sight of her. Her eyes are closed, and her cheeks are red. I turn back, and I can’t see him anywhere. “Wren. He’s gone.”

When her eyes open, her pupils are dilated. She searches my face, her chest rising and falling as she looks over me. Her eyes explore mine before she drops them to my lips. Her gaze hovers before she drops it, turns around, and runs away.

It takes my brain a while to register that she’s just disappeared from in front of me. I run after her, but she’s a lot quicker than I thought. I push through the crowds of people, trying to keep my eyes on the gold claw clip in her hair, but it’s fucking difficult. I shoot out quick apologies as I almost knock people over as I run past.

I catch her sprinting toward the bathroom, but there’s a small queue. She skips it, earning her a few grunts, and runs into the room before the next person can even open the door.

“Hey, what are you doing?” the guy at the front of the queue garbles. He’s clearly drunk, but I apologize anyway.

“Sorry. My girlfriend’s in there, and I need to check on her. Can you wait a few minutes?” I say, trying to open the door handle. He groans and walks away. The rest of the queue slowly follows after they realize that this might take a while.

“Wren, can you please open the door? I need to know you’re okay.”

I lean my head closer to the door, trying to hear better, but all I can hear is my heart hammering against my chest.

“It’s nothing,” she responds, but her voice doesn’t sound the same. “It’s fine. Everything’s fine. I’m just— I’m fine, I swear.”

“You don’t sound fine, princess,” I say through the door. “Can you open the door, please?”

I hear her sniffle, and it tears me in two. She’s clearly not a big crier, and if she’s crying right now and it’s because of him, I’m going give Wren the fight she clearly wanted to see here.

After what feels like forever, I hear a click, and I push the door open, slowly.

The bathroom is all marble, and the bright lighting is startling compared to the dark neon lights on the other side of the door. The music is almost completely muted this far into the house, so I can hear the trickle of the tap and the sharp breaths Wren takes in. She’s standing with her back to me, her arms tight around her middle, looking out the window as if she’s completely immobile.

I walk toward her cautiously.

“Wren. Are you okay?” I ask quietly. I put my hand on her shoulders, and they drop with a shaky breath. “What happened?”

She turns around, her eyes filled with tears that haven’t fallen yet. She blinks up at me, tears slowly falling down her face. Instinctively, I swipe my thumb across her cheeks, futile attempts to help ease her pain, resting my hand on her face for a second before dropping it. Maybe I’m the problem. Every time I’m alone with this girl, I keep making her cry.

“I think… I think I’m having a panic attack,” she says. Her eyes drop to her shoes as I place both my hands on her shoulders, steadying her. “This is, like, my third or fourth one this week. My second one today.”

Her hands shake when she brings them to her face, rubbing at her cheeks.

How can she still look so beautiful even when she’s crying?

I try to bring my hands to her face, but she backs away again, moving her hands frantically.

“It’s already enough that I’m crying in front of you again,” she says, “I really don’t need you trying to comfort me too.” She steps away from me until she’s sitting on the toilet seat, shoving her face into her hands. I sit down on the edge of the bathtub, looking up at her.

“Can you smell that?” I ask, scrunching my nose up.

She sniffles. “What?”

“It smells bad in here, don’t you think?”

“Miles, what are you⁠—”

I cut her off, pretending to sniff in the air around us. “Just really try to smell it. It’s awful.”

Her teary eyes flicker between mine until she sniffs, taking in a huge breath. It doesn’t smell bad here. It’s honestly weird that it smells good for a bathroom at a house party. But it got her to take a deep breath, and that’s all I need from her.

“I can’t smell anything,” she whispers.

“That’s the whole point. You needed to take a deep breath,” I say, running my hand across her knee reassuringly. She covers her face again, shaking her head like she wants to make me disappear. “Wren. Talk to me.” I try to peel her hands away from her face, but she doesn’t budge. “I’ve got you, alright? I know you don’t want me to, but I’m here for you.” She takes in a deep breath, the exhale shaky. “What do you need from me? Tell me how I can help you.”

“It’s just in my head. I’m getting anxious over things I don’t need to get anxious about, and then it crushes me like a weight on my chest when things get too much, and I freak out.” She blurts out the words, still not looking at me, and she takes another deep breath. “I think something’s wrong with me. This… weight, this pressure, it doesn’t feel normal.”

This girl is breaking my heart. If I didn’t think she’d push me away if I went to hold her, I would have her in my arms right now. I’d be smoothing my hand down her back, holding her as close to me as possible until she manages to pass all the pressure she feels onto me. I’d take it on and more if it meant she could be okay.

“There is nothing wrong with you, Wren. It happens to the best of us. A lot of people panic and have anxiety, but everyone just deals with it in different ways,” I say. She looks up at me now, and a part of me wishes she didn’t. I’ve never seen her like this before, and it breaks my heart. “I used to drink until the tightness in my chest went away, but a good friend of mine told me that I’d become an alcoholic if I didn’t stop.”

She sniffles. “They sound very smart.”

“Smartest person I know,” I confirm. She gives me a weak smile. “I know you’ve got a lot going on with your skating team and your mom, and clearly, there are some unresolved issues with Augustus, so we can leave. We can get out of here and get some food and pretend tonight didn’t happen.”

“But what about our plan? The pictures. This was supposed to be our big debut as a couple,” she says, rolling her eyes.

“You,” I say before I tap her skull, “and this brilliant brain of yours are far more important than any party, any photo, or any opportunity to show people that we’re dating. What you want matters, Wren, and I’m sorry if it’s never been proven to you that it does.”

“Please stop talking or I’m going to cry again,” she mutters, laughing.

I stand to my feet, holding out my hand to her, and she slips her hand in mine. “Let’s get something to eat.”